Dad Jokes
by athenasdragon
Summary: Pellew and Washington exchange terrible dad jokes, much to the embarrassment of their colleagues (aka honorary sons) Horatio and Ben.


_**A/N:** HISTORICAL TIMELINE PFFT WHAT IS THAT? RATIONAL BACKSTORY? NOPE!_

 _In all seriousness though, this was inspired by a conversation with the lovely sonsofmahal about how similar these two relationships are._

 _Personally, I find it hilarious. Drop a review with what you think._

* * *

 _Ben_

Ben shifted nervously in his chair. He was unused to being on such a large ship, and the thought of dining on one made his stomach churn despite the fact that they were still in port.

Washington had insisted on meeting with Admiral Pellew to promote goodwill between their two nations. While Britain's insults and aggression still burned fresh in Ben's mind, he couldn't deny that Washington knew diplomacy like no other. If he felt that an alliance between the United States and Britain would be fortunate, then Ben was willing to support him in such an endeavor.

Pellew had brought a "promising" young captain by the name of Hornblower. The boy seemed eager enough—his eyes were bright and he sat at attention beside the older man in a manner that clearly demonstrated how much he yearned for his approval. By the way the two interacted, however, it looked as though he already had it.

His observations were interrupted by the arrival of their meal. Formal introductions now well behind them and idle pleasantries fading with the excuse of food, their little table of four fell into a mildly awkward silence.

* * *

 _Horatio_

This Washington—the President of the United States, if he could bring himself to recognize that such an office existed—was certainly able to command a room. Horatio had always admired those qualities of Pellew's which allowed him to keep a ship full of men efficient and under control, but the man before him was apparently capable of running an entire union. The thought was impressive.

The young man with him had been introduced as Benjamin Tallmadge, though it was unclear exactly what his role was. Certainly he had served under Washington, and he hung off of his superior's every word like it came from God himself. The two almost seemed friends, though their ranks were clear as lines drawn between them.

Supper was the best the steward could produce: hearty beef stew thick with potatoes and studded with herbs, bowls overflowing with peas and carrots, fluffy white bread with a crisp crust and a hint of rosemary. The wine was opulent and plentiful. It seemed as though the people of Britain herself had produced their best offerings to impress these American guests. Tallmadge looked sideways at his portion for the better part of a minute before the green tinge in his skin faded and he could eat peacefully. Horatio might have laughed at the man for being seasick in port if he had not had a similar experience as a midshipman.

If his companion hesitated, Washington did not. He made noises of satisfaction as he ate and complimented the chef many times over. This might have been simply to fill the growing silence between the two sides—Horatio too found it tempting to chatter into the emptiness, had he not realized that Pellew was drawing it out on purpose. The sooner their guests realized who had the power here, the better.

* * *

 _Ben_

Ben thought he detected a flicker of amusement in Hornblower's expression when he finally forced himself to eat. He felt a responding flare of irritation but when the man made no move to point out his weak stomach he allowed himself to let it go. Any sailor might be thus disdainful; it need not become a matter of politics.

The food, when he began to actually taste it, was excellent. Even the wine tasted much too expensive to be from the ship's stores. He let Washington articulate this on his behalf while he focused on enjoying the flavors.

"Indeed, a very fine red this is, Admiral," his superior officer mused, swirling his glass. Pellew inclined his head politely. "Is it French?"

Ben ducked his head to hastily choke back his laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hornblower mirror the gesture, though his coughing was probably inspired by an altogether different emotion. As he doubled over, the young captain inadvertently scraped half a dozen peas off of his plate onto the table.

"Do you know," Pellew chuckled, ignoring the two younger men, "it very well might be. I'm not entirely sure." He cast his gaze over to his companion, eyes narrowing in distaste. "Oh dear, Captain Hornblower. You seem to have 'pea'd' on the table."

Through his own haze of concealed amusement he watched Hornblower flush a deep shade of scarlet. Washington laughed heartily at the young captain's expense and Pellew's serious exterior cracked as the Admiral began to laugh as well.

* * *

 _Horatio_

Tallmadge was the only man not actively laughing at Horatio—true, he obviously found the situation highly amusing, but he at least had the decency to conceal the fact. Horatio cast a desperate look in the other man's direction, hoping for a sudden new kinship.

Fortunately, he caught the hint, cleared his throat, and turned to Washington. "I'm sorry, sir—"

Washington interrupted him by holding out his hand. The older man still had tears of mirth in his eyes. "Good day, Sorry. I'm afraid I have been under the impression that your name was Benjamin Tallmadge."

This sent Washington and Pellew into fresh gales of laughter. It was Tallmadge's turn to redden and look helplessly at Horatio, who could only shrug. For whatever reason the other two men, who were supposed to be enemies by definition, had found common ground in teasing their companions.

Horatio nudged his chair imperceptibly away from the Admiral so that he might speak privately to Tallmadge. "So, I take it you fought alongside Washington in the Revolution?"

His counterpart seized this new (if somewhat perilous) topic with obvious relief. "Yes, I was head of Intelligence. And you have served with Admiral Pellew for some years?"

"Many. I was transferred to his vessel as a midshipman after a regrettable conflict with one of my shipmates. I have the greatest admiration for him…"

* * *

 _Ben_

Oddly enough, Ben had more in common with this Hornblower fellow than he could have thought possible. He seemed clever enough, and loyal, but honest and honorable. Before long they had struck up a rather enjoyable conversation about their respective military histories while Washington continued to share terrible jokes with the Admiral.

"Oh, wait, I have one," Pellew said excitedly. He paused to take a long draught of wine. Ben noticed that Washington was matching him cup for cup while he and Hornblower consumed just over half as much as their superiors. He kept half an ear on the Admiral's joke while he also tried to follow Hornblower's story of his disastrous first command.

"I dove down with a sail to patch the hole," the Captain was saying, "but by then the rice in the hold had begun to expand and we were lost."

"When does a sailor's sore tooth hurt the most?"

Washington looked puzzled. "When?"

"At five bells of the afternoon watch."

Hornblower, who had paused to listen, snorted and rolled his eyes. Apparently this joke was familiar to him. Ben had only a vague idea what this meant but the punchline made no sense to him.

Washington looked up and muttered under his breath for a few seconds, apparently performing some kind of conversion, before hesitantly saying "Three-thirty?"

"No," Pellew explained patiently, "two-thirty. Tooth-hurt-y. You see?"

"Oh!" Washington's eyes lit up and he chuckled. He turned to Ben. "How very clever. Don't you agree, Ben?"

Ben shared an exasperated look with Hornblower, who nodded and winked. "Oh yes. Very clever."

Washington launched into another indecipherable joke, leaving Ben free to hear the end of Hornblower's very interesting story.

* * *

 _Horatio_

Dinner wasn't nearly as hellish as he had been worried it would be. In fact, it wasn't hellish at all, apart from the rather embarrassing jokes from Pellew and, later, Washington. Tallmadge—or Ben, he had eventually insisted on being called—was an intelligent young man with all the qualities Horatio looked for in his officers.

Before their superiors had pulled out of their own discussion to notice Horatio and Ben and draw the evening to close, Ben had pulled a pencil from his sleeve and gestured for Horatio to give him his cuff.

"I have enjoyed our conversation a great deal," he said as he scratched something in almost invisible lettering on the edge of Horatio's white dress cuff. "I know that our countries are, ostensibly, enemies, but should you be interested in beginning a correspondence…" He gestured to the words, which Horatio could now see formed an address in a town called Setauket. "Any letters sent here will reach me."

"I will consider it," Horatio had said, but he had smiled as he said it, and Ben had smiled back. The same fire burned in both of their hearts, albeit for different causes, and he had high hopes for their future friendship.

* * *

Now they stood on the deck of Pellew's ship, saying their farewells. They bowed stiffly to each other and expressed the appropriate wishes for peace and collaboration. Horatio tapped his cuff. Washington did not notice, but Ben inclined his head.

As they each turned away, Horatio for the jolly boat that would take him back to his own ship and Ben and Washington for the gangplank that would deposit them safely back on solid ground, they both smiled.


End file.
